


To Make A Need Your Own

by freoduweard



Category: Cosmere - Brandon Sanderson, Stormlight Archive - Brandon Sanderson
Genre: Biting, Book 03: Oathbringer Spoilers, Cunnilingus, F/M, Fluff, Size Difference, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Wedding Night, and Adolin has been Holding Back, because Shallan is thirsty af even before they got married, ch. one is pure G-rating, the E-rating is all in the second chapter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:22:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27258616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freoduweard/pseuds/freoduweard
Summary: Whomever the Kholins had found to dress Shallan for this day knew what they were working with — the two people at the center of this wedding were a matched pair of sunrise and sunset, both utterly magnificent.Adolin and Shallan share the joy of a wedding, and then a wedding night.
Relationships: Shallan Davar/Adolin Kholin
Comments: 15
Kudos: 55





	1. Wedding

**Author's Note:**

> Shallan's brothers — just brought into Urithiru, overwhelmed, and promptly scrubbed — are introduced to the fact that their little sister is getting married. Now.
> 
> In which I go self-indulgently ham in describing how radiant the couple is on their wedding day.

Shallan, their little Shallan, their 'small one', marrying the _son of the Blackthorn_. None of them had known what to expect, shepherded to this tower city like something out of pure legend, but as soon as they stepped off of the platform, blinking at the sudden transportation, they were escorted off to meet with their little sister — Shallan, who’d chased Jasnah Kholin to steal her soulcaster, failed in the attempt, then had gone silent around the time of the chaos that’d torn Jah Keved apart at the seams. They’d known nothing of her situation, only hoped for her safety — and, perhaps, been jealous of it.

Jushu hadn’t known what to expect when the door to the wedding preparation room opened — Shallan putting on a brave face, resigning herself to the political marriage she’d always known she’d endure as the only daughter? A happiness at securing a safe place within an influential household, one subject to enough public scrutiny that she’d never need fear for herself again?

But no. Walking into the room, seeing her turn to face them without realizing that those entering were her brothers, Jushu couldn't remember seeing such _joy_ from her, not ever. Perhaps back in the time before their mother was murdered… but that was so long ago, overshadowed by the following years that felt like decades. Then, she'd been quiet, obedient, and always flinched at the slightest sound. 

He'd resented her at times. She was the only one that Father never hit, the only one that Father may have felt some sliver of love for after Nan Helaran left, and in the worst moments of his hurt and despair he'd hated her for that. But he'd also seen the flinches, heard the shying, near-fearful silence from her as they coaxed her to try her wit with them, and known that she was broken just as deep.

She’d changed so _much_ from when she left home to chase Jasnah.

Not least among those changes was that she’d gotten betrothed to a prince. Heralds, she was marrying an Alethi _highprince_ , and Jushu was _still_ trying to reconcile that fact in his head with the sister he still thought of as a child, sheltered and sensitive. The whiplash of that along with everything else meant that he was practically floating through their encounter, happy yet so _very_ confused—

—and at the same time drawn to the shine of gold and gems in her hair, the unconscious assessing of his eye calculating prices he could get from pawing off that luxurious dress.

There was little chance for him to _do_ much of anything, though, as he and Wikim and Balat were whisked away to a large, open room, huge enough to hold an _enormous_ number of people. He and his brothers walked past Thaylens, Azish, Vedens, and too many Alethi to count, well aware of the dusty, drab nature of their clothes in comparison to the rich finery on display all around them.

For all that they’d heard that the Alethi were prudish and reserved, the people around the three men and Eylita were a riot of colour: havahs and veils and suits and uniforms in a dazzling array of colour, accents everywhere showing off infused chips of gemstone that glowed with rainbow light from all directions. Jushu was torn between awe, desire, and envy at the sight of it all. This truly _was_ the marriage of a highprince to a to-be-highprincess, and that was shown by the sheer _decadence_ of those around them. It was a sight the likes of which none of them would have seen in their little corner of Jah Keved.

Jushu, Wikim, Balat, and Eylita were escorted towards the center of the room, ushered into a circle of people delineated by a ring of blue-coated guards, their uniforms immaculately pressed. Jushu spared a moment to eye a few of them up and down — they were well-made men, after all, and standing at attention like that did many favours for even the most average of them—

Ah, yes. Wedding. 

Jushu followed his twin’s tug on his sleeve, slipping into a space forged out by the Dowager Queen Navani as she shooed people aside to make space for them. It _was_ a space of honor, he realized, as Shallan had told the woman; they stood within the ring of stern soldiers, many of them bearing an identical tattoo on their foreheads. Jushu himself was nudged up next to one of the soldiers, a long-limbed blond man with an attractive chin and nose who stood near a taller Alethi man in more fashionable clothes — his husband, perhaps

The pang of jealousy rolled over him in a familiar wave, but Jushu had little time to wallow in the feeling as a loud, clear chime sounded from the back of the crowd, the ceremonial signal that echoed the storm-bells, _change_ — the arrival of the two to be married.

From one end came an Alethi, one who walked through the corridor of people and spherelamps like the embodiment of a Veden border nightmare, or an Alethi hero of old — a man as tall and broad as the silver-touched veteran that stood rigid and impassive not far from them in the ring around the central circle, where family by rights and tradition should be, the faintest hint of pride upon his face. 

It was only one more surprise amongst the rest of this past week, but Jushu needed to repress his envy at seeing that Shallan had negotiated herself such a handsome husband. Despite not being skilled enough to participate in bouts himself, he’d kept up with the gossip and standings around mid- to high-level dueling in both Jah Keved and Alethkar, and so he knew of his sister’s betrothed in _abstract_ , but to actually _see_ him...

Resplendent golden-black and dark bronze, Adolin Kholin was a vision of the dawn's rising, the moment of the sun cresting the horizon. He was clad in a deep cobalt blue coat with a similar cut to the Kholin army coats that he’d seen so many of since reaching this tower, but longer, sweeping down to mid-calf, and rippling with the luxurious weight of thick silk. Golden embroidery glittered in that coat like those first shining rays that broke the night, the tiny diamond chips glowing in his buttons and scattered along the collar and hems and shoulders, a vision of stars spattered throughout the morning sky. On his head sat a circlet — relatively plain, in the manner of the current Kholin sensibilities, a silver-grey band set with sapphires and smokestones and tiny accents of luminous diamond, all set aglow with stormlight from within, brightening the metallic gold hints in his hair and deepening the shadows in the thick streaks of Alethi black that broke though that Riran blond. 

From the opposite side of the room strode Shallan, who was a vision of radiant splendor that Jushu was _still_ unsure that he was seeing correctly. True, her name evoked Shalash, but never before had any of her family seen Shallan truly akin to the Herald of Beauty, not like this. _This_ was his little sister? This girl— this _woman_ that emanated such happiness, such confidence? 

The dress brought out her eyes and matched her to-be-husband — glimmering warp-threads of real gold spun through the sapphire-blue silk that caught the light in subtle glints with every motion she made, the dress itself subtly darkening to such a deep indigo at the bottom and cuffs that it was edging on purple, the rubies spattered throughout the complimentary golden embroidery glowing like Taln’s Scar itself. A vest of the purest gold draped over her shoulders and matched the headdress that crowned her like a sun. The delicate traditional piece sat atop her intricately woven hair, which was afire in the light of garnets, amethysts, and diamonds that wove all throughout the elegant updo, almost as much a crown as the headdress itself, both in splendour and in richness.

Whomever the Kholins had found to dress Shallan for this day knew what they were working with — the two people at the center of this wedding were a matched pair of sunrise and sunset, both utterly magnificent.

They met in the middle, a measured ring of five pure, ringing chimes sounding out in a clear beat that matched up with their last five steps to meet one another, making a total of ten between the two of them — an auspicious number as well as a traditional one — and from his vantage point Jushu could easily see the way the two of them smiled at one another as they raised their hands, the voluminous silk of Shallan’s long sleeves draping over the darker silk of the Kholin’s coat. It was, per custom, her left hand laid overtop of his left — the touch of Shallan’s safehand showing that she trusted this man, that she would willingly gift him with such intimacy, even when her hand remained clothed. Then, his right lay gently over her left and hers below his, to make a complete clasp.

From the inner circle of people stepped an ardent, easily recognizable from their plain clothing as opposed to the pressed uniforms and vibrant finery of the attendees that gathered all around. They cleared their throat, voice ringing out true above the ambient noise of all the attendees, calling upon the Almighty to turn their eyes to the two who were about to make their vows before them, the gathered crowd falling silent as the ardent’s cry rose in ritual supplication, begging a divine witness upon the oaths that would be spoken.

The man with silver-streaked hair stepped forward, offering his upraised palms and the ribbons that lay upon them, as did the woman next to him who wore an indigo dress, her night-black hair done up with silver pins that draped delicate, glowing purple gemstones carved into the shape of tiny blossoms, an intricate golden crown upon her head.

Together, Shallan and her betrothed reached for the topmost ribbon presented to them: Shallan one of deep red, her betrothed a bright blue. One after another, they laid the ribbon across the other’s wrist and wound it around, around, around, taking turns so that the colours interwove with one another. 

“With this bond, I vow to be honest and true, to take the lead in my best aspects and to aid you when guidance is needed, to protect each other through storm and strife, to be the rock which you may lean upon—” With each part of the oath spoken, a wind of the ribbon bound their hands and wrists together with overlapping silk — first the blue, as Kholin spoke with a warm, firm voice, as deep as Jushu expected from such a man, and then the red, weaving around the blue as Shallan spoke, her manner surprisingly assured for the girl he remembered. 

There was always a pattern that wedding oaths followed, and these stuck to them: a balance, an equality, a sharing of both burdens and blessings. In this one, the vows the two chose even wove _respect_ and _honesty_ into the verbal binding. Jushu always felt that such sentiments were useless — after all, his whole life had disproven their worth — but as Shallan and her betrothed wound ribbon after ribbon around each other’s hands, gold and green and silver and indigo and bronze and ruby and pearl and violet, there was… Storms, there was a _passion_ there, from both of them, even the stalwart, prudish Alethi, something open and honest that even Jushu couldn’t deny as he watched them.

 _Storms_ , he thought as he watched the two of them entwine the last two ribbons around their hands, only the barest flashes of bronze skin and deep blue safehand sleeve visible beneath the overlapping rainbow of silk, _watching this, it almost makes a man believe in love._

He wasn’t so foolish, of course, but his treacherous heart lurched as Shallan looked up at the man her hand was bound to, the ardent proclaiming some nonsense in the background about the vows being witnessed and accepted, and broke into a full, wide smile, as if unable to contain the sheer joy within her. And storm it, her now-husband had a look on his face to match, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he grinned with unabashed elation. 

The chimes rung again, a full ten times, underlaid now with a full, deep _bonggg_ sound, and at the very first hint of noise the air around the married pair burst awhirl with colour. Gloryspren and joyspren spiraled out from the two in a tempest of glowing blue leaves and golden motes, arcing over and through a crowd that roared and cheered, a cacophony of voices rising to join the tones that reverberated pure and true.

_Almost makes a man believe in love._


	2. Wedding Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the revelry, the newly-married couple returns to their rooms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to @spasticcharge for the beta read/editing!

The door of their chambers opened to laughter, Shallan’s wide, delighted smile matched by her husband’s — husband, _husband_ , they really _did_ just get married, and there was a ball of bright light in her chest that threatened to burst forth. She felt as if she was glowing like a sphere. This happiness, this sheer joy — had she _ever_ been this happy before?

Adolin’s hand was warm in hers atop the veiling silk of her dress. He always ran hot, a welcome fire on cold days for her to snuggle up against, but now he seemed more so. Or maybe it was her? Or both of them, yes — she could feel anticipation burning beneath her skin as they tumble-walked through the door towards their bed. That hand, that hand, she wanted it elsewhere, even if the details in her imagination were fuzzy. She’d only ever pleasured herself with her own touch, after all, though she’d heard about substitutes, and she certainly hadn’t ever _slept_ with anyone before, so what would it be like?

Her wandering mind was brought back to the present by Adolin leaning down and bumping his nose against hers, a silly grin plastered across his face as he leaned in to kiss her. Shallan wrapped her hand around the back of Adolin’s neck and pulled him down closer, sneaking her fingers below the collar of his coat. Against his mouth, she laughed a fractured _I want you I want you I want—_ , and was met by an _I could hardly hold myself back this past week, I kept imagining—_

Hands fumbled over buttons and silk, Adolin’s coat falling to the floor in a heap as Shallan pushed it off of his shoulders, the easiest of all their clothing to remove, and the closures of her wedding dress were opening easily under Adolin’s fingers. They were surprisingly nimble, too, in their task of slipping knots of gem-stoppered silk through their partnered loops, though she shouldn't be surprised at that, not when she knew he could sew, not when she's rested her hand in his Plate-gauntleted one and trusted his control of its stone-crushing strength.

In their bubbling excitement and eagerness, though, they still took the time to linger, even tease; Shallan pushed off Adolin's waistcoat much like his outer coat and untied his sash as she sucked her bottom lip between her teeth, the blue silk sliding like captured water in her hands, and Adolin dragged the back of one finger along the high rim of her collar around to the nape of her neck, his other hand rising to pull out the pins that kept her intricate hairstyle in place, locks falling loose as each pin was removed. Her breath shuddered as he drew circles on the back of her neck and twirled her hair around his finger, the light tugs sending tiny, tiny shocks down her spine that joined the pool of heat low in her belly. In retaliation, Shallan glanced up, caught Adolin's gaze, and held it as she undid the laces of his trousers by feel alone. 

Oh, and how _satisfying_ it was to see his pupils widen with desire at her touch.

“Wait, _wait_ , just a—” Shallan might have faltered as Adolin spoke but for the way he visibly bit his lip as she loosened the last laces in their grommets, then his breathy chuckle as he heeled one boot loose, then the other. “ _There_. Best to go in the order I put them on. Here, let me get yours too…”

Already kneeling to remove his own boots and set them aside, he extended a hand. Shallan lifted her foot, hiking the skirts of her dress up slightly to reveal the delicately embroidered slippers, so beautiful yet hardly seen. His hand was gentle as he removed one, then the other, setting them aside with care, but his hand lingered the second time as it cupped her ankle, fingertips brushing over calf and ankle as they slipped her sock away, and she shivered at the touch.

Shoes aside, he rose, and Shallan took the opportunity to let her eyes sweep him up and down, his shirt rumpled from the undressing she’d already managed of him and his trousers precariously slipping further down his hips with every movement. In fact, if she reached out and—

_Flumph._

Shallan allowed herself a victorious smirk as she looked up through her eyelashes at her husband. “It just needed a little help.”

He blinked, then laughed, the sound lower in his chest than normal and _ohh_ she tightened involuntarily at hearing it. Reaching forward, Adolin cupped her face and leaned in for another kiss, drawing close as he took the parted opening of her dress and turned the edges back over her shoulders. The heavy, thick silk slid down as if she were shedding an old carapace, her wedding dress tumbling from her body to land at her feet and leaving her in her thin underdress alone — that, and the sheer glove she wore on her left hand.

He’d already seen her once almost like this, and while her breath hitched as the weight of her dress lifted from her body, she focused on taking his shirt off, the small shell buttons easily taken care of. _Up and over, off of his arms, easy enough..._ but then it was him and her and the last layers between them. 

Her hesitation wasn’t that of not _wanting_ ; the next step the two of them would take was into uncharted territory, and that prospect of _the unknown_ gave her pause.

The initial impetus was, to her relief, taken by Adolin.

His fingers settled on the shoulders of her underdress, and he met her eyes. “Ready?”

Exhaling, Shallan hooked her thumbs into the waist of his smallclothes and nodded. “Yes.”

 _Wriggle loose the tension holding them in place, over his hips, down—_ The distraction of undressing this last bit helped as she felt the last physical barrier between them slip down and away, leaving her bare before him. It was the first time anyone had seen her like this — the _first time_ — and despite the desire and anticipation, Shallan felt the embarrassment heat her cheeks, though she determinedly kept her hands from rising to cover herself. Why was she so nervous? Yes, it was the first time they were seeing each other without any clothes on; it wasn’t like she was on a life-threatening infiltration. Then again, she had never done one of those _in the nude_.

Well, almost-nude. The thin, filmy glove on her safehand didn’t _feel_ like it was hiding anything, though. It certainly didn’t help the tense shiver of anticipation that prickled down her spine. Despite all the confidence Shallan had gained over time, the old insecurity still crept back in — _thin frame, small breasts, nothing at all like the tall, curvaceous Alethi women… what if he doesn’t like what he sees?_

Breathing in to steel her resolve, Shallan stepped back to take a look.

She suddenly felt rather small.

It was an absurd sentiment. Adolin wasn’t any taller than he had been a few moments ago, no broader than the man she knew each line and angle of in uniform. And yet, with no barrier of clothes between them, Shallan was struck by the sheer, massive _size_ of him compared to her. She had spent so much time with the absurdly large Alethi all around her that she’d simply grown accustomed to the difference. 

Or so she’d thought, until now.

With him not even a finger’s width off from Dalinar's height, Shallan barely came up to Adolin’s collarbone, if even that, and the breadth of his chest and shoulders was more than half again as wide as she was. He wasn’t built like a chull as some men were, but despite the hair streaks and hint of metallic tinting from his mother, Adolin had obviously inherited his frame from his mountain-solid father - thick of chest, broad shoulders, long, solid legs. The heated flush on Shallan's cheeks grew as she took in the sight of him. Her teeth teased at her lower lip as her gaze tracked down the slight taper from Adolin’s upper torso to his waist, and then followed the trail of fine, mismatched hair from his navel on... down...

He was...

Um. _Um._

Proportional. Yes. That was the word.

Then again, what was considered average? Shallan had never seen a man without his pants before — or at least without his smallclothes — not even when she was practicing anatomy sketches! This was all new to her. There was a lovely sweep from the jut of his hips down towards his groin that made her fingers itch for paper and charcoal, and that drew her eye downwards. _Black-and-blond hair there too. Same approximate colour ratio. Unsurprising._ She’d read that height and build didn’t affect penis and testicle size, but had there ever been an actual study attempting to correlate…?

_Stop it, Shallan. Focus._

As her eyes lifted back up from their roving, she caught his doing the same. His expression flickered, a hint of uncertainty crossing it for a bare, vulnerable moment, and his shoulders straightened, chest and chin lifting a little higher as he stood almost as if at attention in response to her wandering, assessing gaze, like he was trying to _impress_ her.

It hadn’t occurred to her that Adolin might be just as nervous as she was. 

Well, it had, but Shallan had dismissed it as a ridiculous notion. What had _he_ to be concerned of? He was beautiful, tall even for the Alethi, with a warrior’s thick musculature and a face that had to be the envy of many a man. She was... not that. Immediately, Shallan shoved away the temptation to Lightweave herself. Even if it didn’t bring another side of herself forward, this was a day for _her_ , honest and genuine, and she had no reason to shy back behind Veil or Radiant to shield herself, not from him. 

Not like this. Not _ever_. 

Movement from Adolin interrupted her internal fretting, his hands rising slightly out from his sides as if in question, eyebrows raised. “Should I pose? The way you're looking at me, I feel as if you'd rather have your sketchbook than the bed.”

“No! No no no, I want—” Her face burned with familiar blushing heat, though her gaze flicked up and down the length of him as she took a Memory of the sight — Adolin standing there before her in the nude with that small, encouraging smile he gave just for her. “I just... I need a moment to readjust the scale of my perspective. It's one thing to speculate what you look like without your uniform on, and entirely different to actually _see_ —”

“You tried to imagine what I look like without my clothes?” And there was that grin again, coupled with a hunger in his eyes that sent insistent, needy warmth pooling down between her legs.

“After seeing the way you fill out that shirt under your coat, or when you teased me with the knowledge of a birthmark?” Gnawing on her lower lip, Shallan trailed her gaze down, admiring, to his left leg, and contemplated asking him to turn around so she could get the entire view of him. “Short of walking in on you changing to get an idea, like how _someone_ caught a full view of me in my nightgown, what else was I supposed to do?”

She cut off as he stepped forward into her space, close enough for her to touch, to feel the heat he exuded that was matched by the fire in his eyes. A blaze of gut-wrenching _want_ crackled like a surge of stormlight between them, and Shallan's mouth went dry, her hand twitching forward in an aborted motion, fingers curling back—

Adolin took her wrists, his callused grasp encircling them easily, and placed her hands on his chest. “Neither of us is restricted to imagining now.” His touch lingered at the edge of her glove, then ran a shiveringly light path down her arms, over her shoulders and the curve of her ribs, and settled into the dip of her waist like they belonged there. The desire in his voice triggered a jolt of lust that swept from her throat to her core, and her breath stuttered. His thumbs swept up over the sides of her stomach, back down, and Shallan found that she wanted him to keep doing that. “You can find out what you want to know in more ways than just _looking_.”

Shallan spread her fingers wide over his chest, feeling the play of muscle beneath them and the rising inclination to see what would happen if she dragged her nails down over his nipple, when those broad hands of his slid around and palmed her rear. 

Shallan _squeaked._

Adolin laughed as she smacked him in the chest in retaliation, and in that moment any remaining awkwardness dissipated. Shallan’s face was aflame, but she bodily toppled forward into him as giggles welled up, unstoppable, and was answered with his laugh — that barking, genuine laugh, deep and now canted low and throaty with desire, resonating with a delightful rumble that she felt where she pressed against his chest.

Apparently emboldened by her reaction, Adolin stroked his thumbs firmly down from the small of her back to the crest of her buttocks, kneading, his fingertips digging in where her rear met the back of her legs. Shallan gasped and ground into his thigh, her hands slipping around to clutch at his back, searching for something, for _more_ , as she felt him stiffen against her belly, the eager, thickening line of his shaft only encouraging her to press as much of herself against him as she could, as if she could meld with him and soothe the ache through sheer force of will alone.

“Shallan.” 

The way he said her name… _Heralds_ , but that one word alone nearly sent her shivering. Still, she looked up to meet his eyes, almost overwhelmed by the _intensity_ of him — of this, her _wedding night_ — and paused, unsure of how to proceed. “...Yes?”

“...Are you sure you want to do this?” Adolin brushed her hair back from her face, gentle, though his gaze had lost none of its heat. They’d both already given a fervent _yes_ to bedding each other, had discussed it and teased each other all throughout the week leading up to the wedding, but this… this moment felt like a precipice. “If you have any reservations, even the slightest, we can share our bed together without going any further than we have thus far.”

The tip of Shallan’s tongue darted out to wet her lips as she chose her answer. “Yes. I'm sure.” Straightening and pulling her hands back, she started tugging at her safehand glove, the filmy, translucent silk sliding off easily, and she dropped it to the side. She raised her chin and held up both bared hands to him, remembering the flash of nervousness that he so quickly masked earlier. “Are you?”

Adolin’s hands engulfed hers as he threaded their fingers together, but not for a second did Shallan fear being caged. Rather, as his eyes met hers and that warm, inimitable smile crossed his face, she felt quite the opposite.

“Yes.”

\----------------------------------

Shallan’s fingers linked with his, both her hands bare, small and soft and _tiny_ , and even that little bit was threatening to bruise his heart against his ribs. Lifting their joined hands, Adolin laid a kiss to the back of her fingers — first the right hand, then the left, the left which had been gloved beneath her sleeve, not truly obscuring anything but still _there_ , one last veil between them which she then chose to set aside.

He could not express how much that meant to him, even through the tender press of his lips against her safehand, tactile and intimate and _trusting_. 

Adolin laughed against her knuckles and glanced over them at her through his lashes. “I can tell which one is your safehand without even looking.”

A snort of a repressed snicker escaped her, skeptical but amused, and her eyebrows knit even as she visibly struggled to keep her smile from spreading. “Are you sure? I'm not convinced that _anyone's_ lips are so refined, even those of a highprince."

“No, but I could taste what I’m pretty sure is a hint of charcoal residue on your right.”

Shallan bapped the lips kissing her hand with an indignant noise, but the way it dissolved into stifled chuckles and her fingertips trailing from his mouth down over his chin reassured him that it was a response meant well. " _Liar._ "

He laughed against her skin, kneading her hips in a way that had her rubbing up against his leg in an insistent grind, one that spiked a desire to lift her further up, thrust against _her_ in return. "In this instance, _maybe_."

Her grin and the way her eyes crinkled at the corners had him ready to sprinkle kisses down on them until her entire face was peppered with them, but the way those eyes shuttered with lust in flickers as her fingers trailed down his throat and the crux of her legs dragged against his thigh halted him in mid-dip with a groan, his own fingertips digging into the give of her hips, and he wanted to do _so much more_ than just kiss her. The sight of her, the _scent_ of her; his hands flexed from the sheer desire of all that he wanted to _do_ to Shallan—

And he would. _Yes._ “But let me try again, and taste other parts of you to compare.”

Surging down and forward in one fluid, swift motion, Adolin swept Shallan into his arms, her shoulder blades pulling his attention where they were shifting against his bicep and forearm, her legs tucked naturally into the crook of his other arm. Shallan slid one hand around his neck for leverage, pulled herself up, and started to mouth kisses up his throat and under his jaw. His half-hard cock twitched as she found his pulse point and tugged the skin there between her teeth, and a noise halfway between a growl and a whine escaped from the depths of his chest as he carried her over to their bed — their marriage-bed. _Theirs_. 

Heralds, part of him wanted to follow the fierce pulsing of his blood and toss her down to see if she leapt to tussle with him, but the more sensible portion of his mind overrode that deeper impulse, so he half-turned on the ball of his foot, let the back of his knee hit the bed, and collapsed down onto the mattress with Shallan in his lap — now _definitely_ putting pressure on a part of him that very much desired friction — and though a surprised _"Ah!"_ at the motion interrupted her ministrations, she suckled hard at his pulse once more before placing a more tender kiss against the taut tendon there.

A groan shuddered through him, and he managed to swing a leg up onto the bed, turning and hefting Shallan into the middle and onto one of the many pillows in a motion that could generously be called half-graceful. Moving the rest of the way up, he shifted on his hands and knees to brace himself over her as she wriggled into a more comfortable position.

Steadying his weight on one arm, Adolin traced from the outside of one eye over Shallan's cheekbone, then down over her cheek to her jawline, sweeping along it like a dartfish in a perfect current, coming to rest beneath her chin and guiding it up to expose more of her throat. The ridge of Shallan's collarbone glinted in the blue-and-white spherelight, and Adolin had to bite the inside of his lip to restrain himself from leaning down and laving it with attention. Somehow, he managed, and also steadied his lust-heavy voice for a question.

“What do you like? Will you tell me…” A breath hung in the air between them, a beat as slow as his heart wasn't. “Or show me?”

Many of her tender points he wished to discover on his own — how she might react if he traced a fingertip down her spine, light and teasing as a gentle breeze, or if he kneaded roughly at her waist or breasts - but he’d rather not be a fumbling mess that ended up frustrating rather than enticing her. He knew the general _idea_ of what he could try to give her pleasure, but it wasn’t as if he could _practice_ before this night.

And he _wanted_ to give her pleasure. He wanted to see her shudder, hooded gaze darkening as she arched up towards him for more; he wanted to drive her to the brink, coax her to the edge over and over again, wringing cries and demands from her until she was overcome with ecstacy. He wanted to make her _unravel_ beneath him, until it was all she could manage to sink back into the sheets and catch her breath as the echo of his name lingered on her lips.

Perhaps he wouldn’t manage that tonight, but he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to _try_.

Shallan dragged a fingertip down the valley of the center of his chest, her eyes following its path down the sternum bone between rises of pectoral muscle, and it felt like his breath followed along with that touch too. “Not just yet.” She smiled up at him, a playful glint in her eyes. “I know better than to give you any unfair advantages, _A-do-lin Kho-lin_.” Her cheeky smile crinkled the corners of her eyes as much as her singsong tone, and Shallan pushed herself up on her elbows with each syllable of her teasing, taunting recitation of his name, until her lips were a breath away from his and brushing them with each movement.

He couldn't help but grin even as she refused to give him any hints. “Does that make this a _challenge_ , Highprincess Shallan?” He spread one hand wide, just below her breasts, and slowly, firmly pushed her right back down onto the bedsheets. Their gazes remained locked the entire time as Shallan deliberately resisted the pressure just enough to make him push a _little_ harder, and her back hit the bed with a forceful _ah!_ of breath escaping, her sunset-red hair fanning over the pillow in a spray of bright colour. The smug way she eyed him and gnawed her lip as he loomed over her like a stormcloud only inflamed his desire to see her undone, brought by his hand to a crest of sated, trembling completion.

_I will do my best to drive you rapt with need, and see that need fulfilled._

“My Shallan.” Adolin leaned down and pressed a kiss to each corner of her mouth, his forehead lingering against hers, and he delved back into the memories of the language his mother had taught him. “ _Love_.”

His lips met hers in a kiss that had her hands rising to tangle in his hair, clenching in sharp, short tugs as he bit down with a sharp canine on the tip of her tongue, her gasp mingling with his breath as she arched up against him. _Stone and storms._ He’d wanted this for so long, and now that her warmth lay beneath him, the urge to explore every inch of her multiplied to the point where his nerves _ached_ with it.

So he did, with Shallan’s hands still tangled in his hair, kneading as he dragged his attention down from her mouth to her throat, laving at the gentle arch of it until he came to the dip of her collarbone and ever-so-gently licked the little hollow before he ran his teeth across the arch of bone itself, then dipping down to nose along the curve of a breast. 

“You,” he murmured against her skin, "are so soft, so _lovely_ ," and when he raised his hand to fondle at the other, it fit easily within his grasp, her nipple catching on his calluses and the lines of his palm as he twisted his hand to run fingertips along the soft-firm edge where that enticing, enchanting plushness met the harder barrier of her ribs, and he mirrored that touch on the other side with nose and mouth, sucking the soft underside of her breast between his lips before laving further with his tongue.

Shallan, despite the squirming and harsh intakes of air as he nuzzled along the underside of her breasts towards her midsection, managed a breathy laugh, dragging her thumb down across one eyebrow and over that temple, and Adolin leaned into the intimacy and pressure of that touch with a pleased rumble. He looked up through his lashes at her. “This is a whole new angle I’m seeing you from, and you’re just as beautiful from down near your ribs as you are from up above.”

“ _Flatterer_.” She laughed, though her shortness of breath displayed how affected she was by the way his hands explored her chest and sides. “That’s a good one, right—” She sucked in a breath as he softly bit at the very underside of her breast. “— _oh_. Oh, _that’s_ a new feeling.”

Looking up at her, he grinned, delighted by the pleased curiosity in her voice and the way it dipped low. “In a good way?”

“Yes. Too much harder and it might actually _hurt_ -hurt, but like you did, it’s more like… ice against skin, that brisk coolness on a summer day, or using a complementary colour to make a composition more striking.” Shallan raked her fingers back through his hair and over the nape of his neck, and Adolin hummed with a shudder at the edge of her nails contrasting against the heat of his skin, his forehead falling against her ribs with a muted _thunk_. She seemed to like that, if the breath-exaggerated rise of her chest was any indication.

Taking advantage of the position, he nipped a trail down over the thin skin covering Shallan’s ribs, mouthing more widely and firmly as he got down to her waist, and he savoured the _shivers_ that his ministrations there won him. Shallan seemed torn between leaning into the touch of his lips and teeth or twisting as he dragged his thumb around her nipple, the short nail biting ever so slightly into her skin, and yet she arched up into it as if wanting _more_ pressure and sharpness there.

“More here?” He asked halfway between her side and her bellybutton, pausing but not glancing up as he nuzzled the space where he stopped to ask, and he flicked the side of his thumb against the peak of her breast once again for good measure. "Or is it too much?"

“No, it’s that it’s…” Shallan caught a noise deep in her chest as she thought, as she curved into the fleeting spike of stimulation, and he wondered if she even realized that she’d done so. “It’s _good_ , but… all right, I know I’m impatient, but I want you— further down.”

 _No hints_ , she'd said, but she so easily admitted to her greatest want in the moment, along with those noises and her _movements_ , and he couldn't help his pleased hum against the dip of her waist, smiling against her skin and alighting a kiss there that she shivered into with unabashed eagerness. He locked his hands onto her hips, spreading wide with his fingertips sinking into the softer flesh and keeping them pinned to the bed, kneading, and he skated his mouth across her hipbone, sucking and scraping until her whine went high with desperation, her hands spasming in his hair as she tried to push him down further.

“ _Adoliiiiiiiin—_ I thought you just swore — oh _Ash’s eyes_ — only a few hours ago swore to hel- help me, and be by my side, and, _nnngh_ , pay attention to my needs and heed my counsel—” The heel of her palm tilted his head askew and he took the opportunity to twist up and kiss her wrist, planting it quick and hard against the thin skin over her pulse. “Oh, you— _mmmf_. Are you going to make me ask again?”

“...Maybe _._ " She was a _vision_ of beauty like this, her lithe figure highlighted by the spheres, small, soft a little bit everywhere over the muscle of missions and sword training, enough that his fingers could sink in against her in a way that had his cock twitching in futility against the air. And he couldn't deny to himself that yes, he was debating lingering until she asked a little more desperately.

Another kiss, though this one landed on Shallan’s forearm as she reached to rake her fingers through his hair again, and he glanced up with a look and a slow, promising smile that saw her lovely, paint-smudged lips part further with a sharp little inhale. “I just wanted to savour all these little spots I’m finding on my way. Sure, we have all the time in the world to do this on other nights too, but I _like_ finding these places that make you squirm.”

“You’re incorrigible.”

Adolin hummed, and leaned down to press that hum against where the gentle arc of her lower belly dipped and gave way to the thatch of dark red hair at the crux of her legs. “I’ve been called worse.”

Her breath shuddered on the exhale. “Are you going to move down?”

Scooting back a little further and repositioning himself entirely between her legs, he slipped his hands beneath the _oh_ -so-tempting curve of her rear and _squeezed_ , dropping one more kiss at that spot right above the red patch and feeling his cock twitch at the sight of her biting her lip. _Storms_ but he loved seeing her like this, splayed loose and luxuriating across their sheets — _theirs, their sheets_ , he was still processing the heady concept — present in the moment without a worry on her face, and looking at him like he was the only thing in the world that mattered.

“Adolin—”

He looked up at her, catching and holding her sky-blue gaze as he kissed the seam between her leg and hip. “ _I love you._ ”

He didn’t wait for an answer, but he caught the lingering caress of her hand as she sought to cup his face, her fingertips sliding off as he settled down onto the sheets between her legs and shrugged them into a place where they felt comfortable lying over his shoulders, her heels resting light on his back. Immediately he set about the inside of her thighs with gentle bites — and some _not_ so gentle — and dragged the soft flesh between his teeth, exulting when he felt as much as saw her back arching up from the sheets and heard her stuttered gasps when he clamped down _just_ enough to drag a whimper from her.

_Yes. Yes, let me find what makes you feel good. I will find what makes you shudder and unravel beneath my teeth—_

There was only so much he could resist, dragging Shallan along on the path to pleasure as he ground into the sheets in an effort to satiate himself, the need spiking with each gasp that dragged itself from the depths of her throat. He kept that pressure on his groin in waves, thrusting shallowly against the bed as he mouthed sharp, ungentle nips up towards the area that he’d not touched so far.

He stopped with a bite just short of the bush of dark red hair at the apex of her thighs, laying a kiss right to the side of it as he reached up to trace his fingertips along the other side of the thick thatch. Those fingers slipped further around the inside of her thigh towards her bum and Shallan _shivered_ , her heels pressing hard against his back. Adolin steeled his jaw, steeled _himself_ , and ground hard into the bedsheets.

“Shallan.” He nudged the broad tip of his nose against the curl-shrouded mound and his voice rumbled with undisguised lust. “I’m going here now.”

Her heels pressed into and pulled at his back, her thigh pressing up hard against his ear, and she touched his face like she wasn’t sure how she wanted to do so, brushing back a lock of his hair, then aborting and instead dragging her thumb along one of his eyebrows, then curling against his temple before fisting in his hair. The tug was firm, but not enough to be painful, not yet. 

“ _Yes_ ,” she breathed, low and unsteady and _wanting_ , “there is good. There’s— in through the center, or at the top, those are the best.”

Confirmation in two separate ways: he needed nothing else. The way her pupils spread wide and black spurred him on. With another kiss to the soft, tender inside of her thigh, already flushing from his attentions there, he delved through the wiry patch of red hair until his fingers found wetness, _softness_ , folds of plush, silk-smooth flesh, and as he touched them, he heard Shallan gasp.

He parted her curls to better see what he was working with — and in truth, what he saw essentially fit what he’d imagined when he felt there: a fold of pink within the slit he’d felt, shiny with something slick and protected by the outer layer that was thick with curling hair, like an outer carapace. His fingers slipped inside further as he moved, seeing what would happen if he ran a touch between the inner and outer folds, and the little hole further in, darker pink-red, tightened at the sensation as Shallan arched like a strung bow.

“Here?” he asked, and he swept one finger up along the edge of that wet pink slit, seeking the point at the top where it looked like a little nub rested, mostly-hidden beneath the inner folds of delicate skin. As he slipped through to touch it, he found that it was just a little stiffer than the rest, barely noticeable but still different. What _was_ noticeable was how Shallan responded to his find, biting her lip and sucking in a breath like she’d been struck. 

_I could watch that for hours._

“ _Definitely_ here.” He let loose a smiling _hah_ , breath coasting warm along the inside of her thigh and over the mound where he prodded at the newfound place that made her _writhe_ like this, entranced by how the pleasure showed itself on her face and in her motion. Yes, this, _this_ was what he wanted to see—! “So let’s see how far we can go.”

Shallan’s tongue flickered out to wet her lips, red-on-pale, mouth plump from their kisses, and oh but he shivered with delight to see the _want_ in her eyes. There was a hesitation before she spoke, but it was the pause of attempting to find the right words, not of any uncertainty in her heart or mind. “Yes. It’s— Heralds, it’s so much more than when I try to do this myself— Everything’s…. _more_.” Her thighs tensed and the closer one bonked his ear, but that was the least of his worries at the moment, far more intent as he was on listening to the lust-deepening drag of her voice as she bit back a noise and spoke as she threaded both hands into his hair and _tightened_. “Is this all right?”

“ _Yes_ ,” he said, leaning into it but enjoying the spike of sensation that shot down his spine from the firm tug at his scalp. As he did, he reached his free hand up, her thigh pressing down into his shoulder, and slid it up her side in a long, smooth caress, forming along the shape of her waist, then her ribs, then up to cup and knead his hand along the curve of her breast as he slipped his index finger inside her nearly to the second knuckle.

Shallan whined and curled against the sheets, as if simultaneously trying to press more against both places, a gorgeous pale arch, his name on her tongue along with ‘yes’, and ‘more’, and ‘a little bit to the— _oh there there keep— the rub, yes, back and—_ **_nnngh—_ ** ’. That was a good sign, _good sign_ , and so many more noises that he could attribute to Shallan’s repertoire of _oh, that feels_ **_good_**.

_Right. Touches there, good, touches there, good, and I can feel the pressure around this finger but it’s very little, I can fit more in, surely—_

First, back to the point that’d made her react more viscerally than anything else: that point, that little nub hidden in folds and red that had her arching like a strung bowstave. A brushing touch was one thing but between warcamp-stories and advice and everything else he’d done to prepare for this night...

He found the nub again, pulling out his now-slick finger and rubbing that little point with the sides of his fingers with a twist-and-pull, and _oh ow—_ “A little lighter on the hair, love.”

Shallan’s grip on his hair eased as she apologised, but he could feel the pull of the sheets beneath them picking up the slack as her fist tightened and pulled against the fabric that much more. That reaction was good, that was what he _wanted_ , but more, _more_ , and Adolin teased his thumb back and forth over the little hood that covered the nub, feeling Shallan tremble beneath his touch and hearing the needy, breathy jumble falling from her lips. So, tilting his head, he advanced.

Nosing through the thatch of red until his lips found moisture, Adolin slipped his index finger inside her, pulled down, and _lapped_ , flattening his tongue so that her slick, velvety inner lips spread wide around it, the softness of his tongue fitting easily alongside his finger and plying her wide, feeling her twist and gasp as he licked, speared, _spread_ , her slick on his tongue, as he dipped inside her again and again and again, pausing for only a moment as he retreated for a moment to wet two fingers, then dove right back down, seeking to find just how deeply he could taste her and what sounds _that_ might wring from her.

Pushing the first finger further within her, he teased and pressed against the soft give of the channel that clenched around his intrusion, the squeeze more forceful than he'd anticipated now that she was getting worked up. The tip of his second finger played at the slick seam where the first disappeared into her, feeling the waves of pressure and waiting, finding a moment when she loosened to slip in alongside as he dragged his tongue up between her folds, catching her clit with the end as he flicked it up.

Shallan writhed like she'd been struck, gasping as she arched to the point of lifting from the bed, sheets twisting in her hands like a desperate lifeline as Adolin spread his fingers wide inside of her and traced the slick line where his fingers disappeared into her with the very tip of his tongue.

Bold and high on her pleasure, he wet his signet finger while the other two were still within her, but as he began to slide it in beside the others, a distressed hitch caught and changed the tone of her ecstatic cries, Shallan twitching away in discomfort as his first knuckle caught against the rim where her skin stretched taut around his fingers. Adolin pulled that third addition back, instead flicking it gently between her inner and outer folds. 

In a bid to distract Shallan from that flash of pain and keep her arousal high, Adolin nosed back up to the tender nub above his fingers, took it delicately with his teeth above and tongue below, and _sucked_.

The _noise_ that split the air and the sudden, painful tightening of Shallan’s hand in his hair brought him to an immediate halt. He raised his head, lips and chin glistening in the spherelight. “Not good? Do you want me to st—” 

He was interrupted as she released the grip on his hair in favor of trying to push him back down to where he'd been. “Nonono, that's… that's not—” Her voice was little more than breathless heave as she grasped for words. “It's good — _really_ good. If you could keep doing it… please?”

Adolin grinned at her, then ducked back down, twisted his fingers inside her, and set his mouth to that spot again in the same way as before.

Shallan _swore_. Her legs and heels trembled, her inner walls tightening in stranglehold waves against his fingers, and her nails dug into the back of his head as he sucked and undulated his tongue. A sound escaped her, something between his name and a monosyllabic groan, and she collapsed.

\----------------------------------

As Shallan came back to herself, vision clearing as she caught her breath, the first thing she saw was the ceiling, painted blue and white by the spherelamps. The second, as she looked down, was Adolin, who was maneuvering her legs off of his shoulders and looking up at her with triumph writ bright across his eyes and face.

She smiled at him, sighing, the edges of ecstasy still bubbling beneath her skin. As she did, a few sparks of _gloryspren_ blinked into existence around Adolin, accompanied by dancing, falling snowflakes of passionspren that glittered amongst the tiny, spiraling golden motes. Shallan’s breath caught at the sight; that was what he was feeling, the unvarnished truth, because he’d sent her into a spiral of rapture.

“That was…” Shallan managed a breathless, exhilarated laugh, extending her hand down to him, and Adolin leaned up as Shallan propped herself up to meet him halfway, kissing him through the haze of unwinding desire. “That was _amazing_ . I’ve… well, I’ve had orgasms before, but that was unlike anything I’ve ever done for myself. I’m…” Her arms shuddering, she let herself plop back down to the pillows with a laugh. “I’m still recovering. _Storms_.”

She could hear the pleased laugh in his voice even before she glanced down to see him. Adolin smiled at her, eyes soft, and another passionspren drifted down through the air. “Seeing how you reacted was… intoxicating. If you could have seen your own face, Shallan, or how you look when you arch up in response to a touch…” He dipped down, pressing a kiss right below her bellybutton, and she _purred_ at the warm, slow caress of his lips. “I almost didn’t want to stop, even when you came, just so I could keep seeing you like that.”

“I don’t think that’s how sex works. But then again, this is the first time I’ve done this with someone.” She carded her fingers into his hair once more — he really seemed to like that — as he mouthed down to the side of her belly, just inward from her hip. When she spoke again, it was definitely a tease, though she truly was curious. Rumours _did_ abound about Adolin and his slew of relationships before her. “Are you _sure_ this is the first time for you? Maybe it's because it's mine as well, but you're doing an awfully good job at turning me into a puddle of bliss.”

He glanced up at her, blue clouded with such a smoke-dark lust that she tightened inside fruitlessly at the sight, but the wry wince he gave her was… unexpected.

“I haven't done this before either, but I did… well... Heralds, you'll laugh at me.”

 **_With_ ** _you, not_ **_at_ ** _you._ She smiled, hoping that it looked as reassuring as she was trying to make it. “I can't promise anything.”

His hand inched up her side, palming from her hip up over her waist, following the contour of her ribs and settling there as if it were crafted for that very curve. “I went to the physicians a few days ago to see if there was anything they might have that would help keep seed from catching, just in case. They're about as discreet as anyone can be, and we can't—” He paused, and Shallan thought she could see him bite the inside of his lower lip as his fingertips dragged down her torso along the side of her belly. “We can't afford even the chance of children right now, not with a Desolation coming down on our heads and you a Radiant, so I figured I'd try to find as many precautions as I could.

“They, ah… _well_. I'm not sure how often physicians get questions of newlyweds-to-be, but one or two were _quite_ insistent that I know the general things a spouse might do to please their wife. In bed.” She could see the deepening of colour across Adolin's cheeks, a swath of a darker tone beneath his natural bronze, and thought she knew where this might be heading. “They suggested, quite clinically, what one can do to help, to try to ensure that it's _good—_ ”

Shallan couldn't help it — she _did_ laugh, but it was a giggling, rippling laughter. She reached down with her unclothed safehand to trace along his hairline, following it down to his cheekbone and stroking his face with undisguised delight in her smile. “You did _research_. For me.”

“You could call it that. Ishar’s soul, there were _diagrams_.” He aimed a playful scowl up at her before tilting to nuzzle into and kiss the palm of her hand. “What else was I supposed to do, ask Aunt Navani? Or my _father_? Which I did anyway, I'll have you know — both of them — and it was _mortifying_.” Adolin leaned forward to suck at the gentle swell of her breast, and Shallan shuddered at the sensation, shoulder blades pulling together as she instinctively rose towards him for more.

He didn't give in to the bait, though, and while he mouthed a moment longer at the yielding flesh, teeth scraping against skin in a way that made Shallan _tremble_ , it was only a moment, and instead the warmth of his mouth left as he looked up to catch her gaze and hold it. “Not that that matters in the end. I wanted— I _want_ this night to be a memory you treasure as much as the rest of our wedding day.”

Shallan wanted to kiss him all over, this beautiful, brave man — her _husband_ , who would bow his pride for the sake of her happiness, and who looked at her with such vibrant affection in his gaze. Instead, she tugged at his wrist until he shifted his weight, letting her bring his hand up to her lips. His eyes fell closed as she pressed a gentle, soft kiss to the side of his finger, then to a knuckle, then to the fleshier hinge where his thumb joined his hand, and then to the inside of his wrist, thick with muscle but the skin still tender, pliable.

“It’s already started out with a pleasure I shan’t soon forget.” Her lips brushed the inside of his wrist with every word, and her hand laid along the outside of his, cupping it close — her left hand, her safehand, and it felt right. _I love you. I truly, honestly do._ “Though I wouldn’t say no to continuing on now that I’ve caught my breath. Advice or no, that was… Almighty, that was _euphoric_.”

Glancing up through her lashes, his fingertips curling against her ear, Shallan shot a sly, cheeky grin down at him. “Did any of those you asked suggest you use your mouth this much?”

He blinked a moment, as if trying to figure out if she meant it honestly or as a tease, and returned her grin with a lopsided smirk, one which lent him an air of rakish mischief. “Only a little and in passing, so I'm afraid a lot of this is just me trying to see what works. Are you saying you'd rather I stop, and save it only for kisses instead?”

Shallan, who was still tingling between her legs from the attention he'd lavished on her earlier, traced the edge of her nails down the taut cords of his neck and watched those oh so _very_ kissable lips part with a stuttering, tiny gasp. “If you stop, I might have to beg you to start again.”

Oh, but the smile that _that_ won her — wide, sharpening both his grin and the glint in the corners of his eyes as they narrowed — caught her breath in her chest and tightened the press of her knees at his sides. Experimentally, he laved his tongue around the lower curve where her right breast met her ribs, then planted a kiss on her sternum as she gasped and squirmed. “Shallan Kholin, _begging_?” He murmured with a thunder-rumble of a chuckle into her skin as he nipped a meandering trail of bright red marks up to the hollow of her throat. “As if _that_ would ever happen.”

But she saw the way his eyes blazed at the prospect, alight with a _want_ , perhaps even a hope, that couldn't be hidden behind the psuedo-denial he'd voiced. _He wants that. He wants me begging, calling for him._ But he wasn’t going to ask for her to do so. Did he think she wouldn’t? That she wouldn’t want him pushing her to the brink until he and her own pleasure were all she could think of?

_Adolin. My sunrise._

Mustering up a measure of the bold confidence that she put into Veil, into Radiant, Shallan tilted her head down to drag her lips over the shell of his ear and murmured, low and taunting, "Unless you _make me_."

teethteethteeth there were abruptly _teeth_ digging into the tender junction of her neck and shoulder, the dying embers of her arousal suddenly fanned back to a roaring height as her back arched off the bed from the shock of sensation, from the flare of her nerves as one large finger plunged into her, curling, Adolin’s thumb swiping rough, quick flicks upward that dragged over the hood of her clit and set tender flesh afire as she writhed and a most _indecent_ noise split the air— from her, yes, _she_ was the one making that noise, she realized through the haze, just as she was sinking her fingernails into his back like his teeth at her throat, sharp and biting as she scrabbled for purchase, demanding _more more more I want this I want you_

Oh, but she should have _known_ that Adolin Kholin, of all people, would take her tease not only as the intended affirmation but as a provocation as well, and immediately act upon it.

Her cheek pressed into his hair, her breath stuttering hot and uneven through her open lips as she clutched him against her, trying to pull him even closer than the press of skin they already shared, as he worked in a second finger to crook and spread against her insides and the clench of his jaws shifted just a little over to the side, dragging, scraping, and the bright points of pressure found fresh nerves to stimulate. His thumb swirled like he'd done with his tongue before, but the edge of his nail caught the side of her clit and Shallan bucked at the clashing sensation with a _whine_ , a high, needy keen, nearly getting a mouthful of his hair as she managed to gasp, “ _Adolin—_ ”

"Tell me what you want." It was a question and an order and fraught with a vibrant intensity, his voice rumbling against her throat where she keenly felt the absence of his bite, replaced by the waves of his breath against the tingling marks left behind. “Shallan, _tell me._ ”

“Within— _mmf_ , and- and curl forward—” She wanted him to hit the spot she’d found during her own explorations in the dark calm of night before sleep, the patch inside that built up pleasure like a storm in her belly and chest rather than the sharp, sudden lust-flashes she got from her clit, and oh, if he could do both at the same time, if he could— “Over, over just a— _there_ , there, oh keep going keep aa _ahhhh—_ ‘lin, ‘lin, Adolin, I— love, _please—_ ”

This tip over the edge was softer than the first, Shallan shuddering into a state of floating bliss rather than plummeting into it from an indescribable height. 

The recovery was much the same, though, slowly steadying her breath as her mind cleared, every sensation a little more _present_ against her skin — the lavish silk of the sheets at her back, the heavy warmth of Adolin as he licked and kissed her throat and her cheek and her jaw and the bite mark he’d left her. She sighed, smiling in content, heavy-lidded satisfaction, but watched with widening eyes and a growing heat as he lifted his hand to lick his fingers clean, gaze never breaking from hers.

_Ohh, now that’s something I never knew I wanted to see..._

“Next time,” she reached up and traced the lines of his face with a single fingertip, over his hairline and across his cheekbone and down to the corner of his lips, “I want to see what your face looks like when I call for you, Adolin.”

Shallan didn't take the time to savour the way his pupils expanded at the sound of her saying his name like that, deep and luxuriously sated and full of love. Instead, she levered herself up to claim a kiss, sealing her mouth to his. They met in the middle as lips parted, and she tasted something that she'd noticed the last time she’d kissed him just after he had his tongue on her, _in_ her — tangy, a touch salty — and realized it was _herself_.

Adolin kissed back with equal fervor, shifting until she could lie back down and they were properly face-to-face, and Shallan felt his shoulders bunch as he held himself hovering over her, pressing her into the softness of a pillow as his tongue chased hers. It was almost a game, darting and twining, sometimes even finding that sweet point of equilibrium where both of them yielded, melting against each other like a confluence of rivers.

When they finally parted, Shallan exhaled with a pleased sigh, smiled, and dragged her thigh up the outside of Adolin's hip. She only wished that she could take a Memory of the _growl_ that that motion won her.

“Will that be the challenge, then,” he said, “to bring you to a peak of trembling pleasure, where the only words you can remember are my name and cries for more?” His gaze flicked down the length of her below him, the tip of his tongue peeking out to wet his lips, and along with that look and motion she saw the lines of tension in his form that spoke of both fascinated admiration and unfulfilled desire. He looked… _ravenous_ . Shallan found that she rather enjoyed being looked at in such a way, like she was seen, seen and _wanted_ , with all her flaws and feats alike. That look and what he said had her clenching down against nothing, her heart skipping a beat as he kept talking. “I'd call that a victory for us both.”

She lifted her fingertips to his lips, exploring the shape of them, then the corner of his eyes, the dark liner smudged at the edges from their bed-play, and still alluring despite the imperfection. "It is one I will happily accept, my sunrise." Trying the endearment aloud, it felt _right_. "But as for right now, there's another challenge we have, one that needs to be overcome.

“I don't think… hmm. When you had the beginning of three fingers in me, it felt like that was about as far as I can stretch right now. We won't fit together.” Shallan gnawed thoughtfully on her lower lip, trying to think of ways that they could solve the matter. The curiosity of testing what they could do this night and what would have to be attempted in the future got the better of her, and Shallan wondered aloud, “With stormlight to heal me, the pain and any tearing wouldn't matter—”

“No.” Adolin cut her off before she could finish the thought, his mouth drawn thin and taut. “No, Shallan. Just because you've healed from far worse doesn't mean you will do the same here. You shouldn't have to, not ever, and I'm not going to go forward that way, healing or no. I _won't_.”

Eyes gentling, but gaining a glint of mischief, he tilted down and bumped his forehead against hers as a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “If you can be patient, we'll work our way up to it.”

“ _Adolin Kholin_ ,” Shallan deadpanned, nudging the side of her nose against his, “lecturing me on _patience_. Of all the unexpected miracles of the Heralds— mmph!”

Kisses were definitely an effective method at getting someone to stop talking.

When they parted for breath, his laugh coasted low and warm against her mouth. “As if you have any leeway to speak of regarding patience when it comes to something that you _want_.”

“True enough.” Light as a brushstroke, she traced her way through the valleys that taut muscle created in the impressive curve of his shoulders, and she took a Memory of that along with the way his eyelashes fluttered at the touch. “But it's not polite to say so.”

Already she was getting Ideas of how they might work up to the point of penetrating, but at least one of them required familiarity with a part of him that she hadn't gotten to know very well yet.

She planned to change that.

Shallan leaned up and smooched him, quick and light, _teasing_. “Stay there.” Loose and languid from the sex — not boneless, but _relaxed_ — she shimmied down the bed underneath him, the remnants of her own slickness rubbing between her thighs as she did so, until she could reach down and wrap her hand around his shaft. Without attention, his erection had diminished; it was an awkward angle for her to try to get a good look, but she could tell it wasn't quite as long or as thick as when she'd seen him fully hard, after grinding down against the sheets as he worked her to a state of molten bliss with his mouth. 

Shallan couldn't quite circle it entirely with her hand, but her lips parted in surprise as she grasped his heavy length, the head peeking partway past its protective sheath. “Oh-! oh, it's _soft_ …” An unexpected discovery, but one that delighted her. The skin was silken-smooth, warmer than she'd thought, shifting slightly with her hand over the firmer core beneath, and his cock was beginning to harden and swell further under her touch. The closeness of his pulse let her feel the faint echo of his heartbeat within her palm.

 _Chana lend me strength — strength and patience._ She certainly wasn't going to fit that girth inside of her anytime soon, but if she started out with something smaller and gradually increased… Well. They could worry about that later, though how _much_ later might be determined by how much she could resist the indulgent satisfaction she got from imagining him inside of her, fuller than his fingers managed. The skin at her opening wasn't able to stretch far enough yet, but inside, she'd clenched down and found she still wanted _more_...

Curiosity propelled her to explore further, so Shallan let her other hand wander and traced her way down the crease where hip met leg, following the easy path that the muscle there carved for her, teasingly sweeping her fingertips around the jut of his shaft. She shot him a tiny smirk as she did so, enchanted by the little twitch at the corner of his eye from what must have been a not-quite-close-enough touch combined with the soft, explorative pull back and forth along his length. Reaching back further, she found his spheres, the sac warm and heavy in her palm.

Shallan gnawed at the inside of her lip and rolled the spheres in her hand, exploring the smooth shapes beneath the skin and the way they moved and rested in the cup of her palm and fingers, her thumb stroking up over the thinner connective skin as she squeezed gently. The hitch in Adolin’s breath was audible and so, emboldened, she did it again, and this time swept her hand up his cock as well, pulling from the base up and off the end, with a firm flick of her thumb to the slit at the very tip.

 _That_ won her a sharp gasp, though whether it was the squeeze or the flick or the combination thereof she wasn’t sure, but Adolin’s arms quivered, and he fell to one forearm to brace himself, a soft gasp escaping him that riled up desire low in her belly once again. Shallan tilted her head back, her hair sliding against the sheets, and saw him looking down at her, pupils blown huge and black, lips parted, his eyelashes flickering in what looked like surprise, the shock warring with the pleasure so vibrant there. She grinned and blew a kiss up at him, raising the hand from his shaft to stroke from his navel down to the coarse, black-striped hair around the base of his cock, oh-so-gently kneading the hefty handful on the other side of her grasp.

Adolin released a breathless, shuddering laugh even as his hips twitched into her hand, her mouth going dry as the tip skidded against her belly and left a slick trail. “You have me by the hilt, as it were.”

Shallan leaned up and pressed a kiss to his chest. “Then it's a good thing that I've had lessons on how to handle a sword, isn't it? And from a fine teacher, at that.”

He grinned, the ridiculous man, and she wished she was able to lean up and kiss his face in that moment. “I’d be happy to give you pointers on the differences betwe—” Adolin broke off into a low groan as she leisurely dragged the pad of her thumb over the head of his cock, a sheen of slick liquid beading at the tip easing the way, his knees tightening against the sides of her hips as she slid her hand down and up that gloriously silky length, her grip just a little tighter than before.

“And what if I want to find out for myself?” She threw his own words back at him with mirth in her voice and a squeeze in her grip, one that made him bare his teeth in a way that made her think he wanted to _bite_ . He’d proven himself inclined to it, after all, and with the throb in her shoulder that echoed the pulse in her groin, she found herself far too pleased with that particular instinct of his to complain. “There’s all sorts of textures and sounds to explore here, and I’m not about to let you have the _only_ hands-on experience.”

“I’d protest, but this does f— _nggghhhh_ —" His breath caught, body arching from his shoulders. "—feel storming sensational, so I _suppose_ you can have your way for now.”

Shallan took another Memory of his face before she snickered, pulling her hand up his shaft with fingers extended to drag up the side, one curled beneath to exert a little pressure there, biting her lower lip as he arched above her with a little sideways writhe. Reaching up, she tapped his side. “Budge over for me, husband? I'd rather not get crushed if your arms give out entirely.”

Adolin tucked around her obligingly, his knees and thighs fast at her sides and his forearms sliding beneath her shoulders before he _turned_ , the two of them rolling with a squeak from Shallan that could have been embarrassing anywhere else, and perhaps they may have tipped off the edge of the bed had it been smaller. He laughed, and she blinked for yet another Memory, this time of that easy mirth but with a heated gaze and smile that was only for her. “Maybe I’ll squish you a _little_ , later. I often end up clinging to my pillow, so you may suffer the same fate.”

She considered that, being held, even clung to, as she slept, and thought she would enjoy that, much as she liked being held by him while awake. “So long as I can still breathe, husband.” Shifting, she moved her knees so that they bracketed his hips and waist instead of the reverse, finding a spot to settle that just so happened to nestle her pelvis comfortably against his, his stiff, thick length rubbing tauntingly against her curls. “But sleeping positions are for later. Now? Now…” Shallan flicked her gaze up and down the enticing form before her, and gnawed on her bottom lip. “I want to touch you.”

Her imagination didn’t have to fill in the way those thick, black-lined eyelashes flickered, or how his chest rose as he breathed, her hands splaying wide over the shadowy divots of abdominal muscle that came into full display when he tensed like that. 

“I’m all yours, Shallan,” and as he said it he took her wrists like before, pulling them forward enough for her to rest her hands on his chest like she’d done when they were standing, and bringing her close enough that he could lean up and kiss her again. This time was long, _lingering_ , and she used her advantage of gravity to press down against him fervently, her front to his, her hands splayed over his chest and feeling the rise of his breath— not that he didn’t pull her close just as enthusiastically in response, his firm grip slipping from wrists up to shoulders to waist and _o h_ so welcome for the change. _Shalash, Chana, heralds of Beauty and Bravery, let me last this night!_

Straddling his thighs gave her leeway to explore his form with an indulgent slowness that her position below him hadn't, and as she broke the kiss, Shallan took full advantage of that arrangement to let her hands wander. Part of her mind was inevitably calling back to her artistic studies of anatomy, delighting in the fine form laid out before her, while the rest of her attempted some modicum of restraint as she dragged her hands down his chest, fanning out over his stomach and sides as she mapped her way down to his navel and that enticing black-speckled trail o—

He twitched as her fingers slipped from ribs to waist, the sort of unconscious flinch that she could _tell_ was instinctive, and stifled a noise behind lips suddenly pressed thin, though still smiling. Shallan paused, blinked, looked up at him. Then, suppressing a smile herself, she ran one fingertip down over his ribs as delicately as the brush of a spring breeze.

He _jerked_ aside with a yelp away from her touch, though she managed to keep her balance by tightening her knees against his sides. Her giggles, on the other hand, were not so easily restrained. Adolin leveled a finger at her, playing stern, though his eyes were still bright and his mouth twisted with his own laughter.

“You will _not_.”

She rocked back on her butt against his thighs, clasping freehand over safehand to her chest in her bout of unrestrained cackling. “You’re _ticklish!_ Highprince Adolin Kholin, general of armies, premier duelist, is vulnerable to a frond-light touch against his sides—!”

“You will _not_.” His finger pressed against her lips, though she could see that he was failing at keeping his own smile from spreading, and he let her snickers take their course, winding down until she was nearly breathless. “While I don’t mind being reduced to the wild need for you, I’d rather not end up rolling myself off the bed in an attempt to _escape_ you. The stone is far less forgiving than the mattress.” Adolin dropped his hand from her mouth, and instead swept the back of his knuckles up her front to flick them off of the tips of her breasts in a short, pleasurably pointed reprimand. “Just… a bit firmer of a touch, love. For my sake.”

“That, at least, I can try,” she promised, curling her hands around the curve of his ribs and appreciating the flex beneath her fingertips as he lifted in an almost imperceptible arch under her touch. _Not a tickle then, but something better. Hmmm…_ But Shallan was not about to let an opportunity escape her, either, and she smirked, catching the corner of her tilted lower lip between her teeth. “And what about a firmer touch… _here_ —”

She tightened her grasp to steady herself and rocked her hips forward, focusing on moving her pelvis more than anything — and oh, by all the deeds of her mothers, it _worked_ . The drag of her clit against his shaft, rocking up from the base of his penis and pressing it between her and his belly, was nothing less than _enthralling_ , especially as she kept at it; again, _again_ , he was fully hard now, she could _feel_ it, and the pressure and friction of him against her was a different kind of glorious than the wedge of his fingers inside her. This time, though, this time was affecting _him_ differently too, obvious in the way he slid his hands down over her hips to grip her legs — kneading, coaxing, pulling her down and forward against him in time with the grinding press of her motion.

“ _Kelek’s breath—_ you go from one kind of interminable touch to another, Shallan.” Oh, but she could watch the bright, fire-blue shine of thin irises around lust-blown black every day of her life. And she _could_ , if she wanted to. She did. _She did._ To feel this good herself, and to see him look like that, churning the pit of heat low in her belly, only fueled her wish to see and have _more_ of both. Adolin looked up at her, vehement with his grasp and motions and gaze and so fervently _focused_ even as his breath shuddered with the rise of his chest; he saw her, _wanted_ her, in all her bare, unveiled Shallan-ness, much like he’d looked up at her from between her legs before, and she could not feel more sure in her choice. 

“I want you to enjoy this night too,” she breathed, unsteady as she moved her hands from his sides to his chest, bracing there for better stability against the increasing force of his thrusts as he dug his heels in and added more of his own strength to the friction between them. “Saving the tickles for a later date— I want this to be a good memory for you as well. Not that it, _mmmh_ , hasn’t, but... I _love_ you, Adolin Kholin, and I want to make sure that I show it to you like this — like you did for me.”

She slipped one hand down so that she could catch the fully bared head of his penis within her palm, the tip slick under her touch as she flicked it with her fingertips, curled around to squeeze, to pump her hand up and down that soft, hot skin as he bucked up against her folds and clit and the circle of her hand, the closest approximation she could manage for now, and she bore down with as much weight and power as she could against him, tightening her entire body as she thrust along his hips and length to meet the motion of her hand. “I want— I cannot even describe how you made me feel, and I want— _you_ , I do, to see your face in pleasure and what you look like when you look at me—”

Adolin's fingers dug into her thighs, and her mind dragged back to the times she saw him in Plate - on the sparring grounds, in the dueling ring, and the ease with which he crushed a rockbud-sized stone in his hand to show off to a runner-boy when they were out traversing the plateaus of the Shattered Plains — and _oh_ , the echoed strength in his grip now was enough to tighten her legs and belly and bring a gasp up from the depths of her chest—

His eyes fell half-shut as he rutted up against her with enough force to lift her from the sheets, lips parting to flash his teeth and chin falling back to bare his neck in an exposed sweep, and she did her best to grind back down in response, determined to bring Adolin to the brink, to see him come too, with heat and pressure and the need to show him that she wanted him, she _wanted_ _him_ , his warmth within her his presence beside her his strength supporting her— the enclosure of his arms the filling width of his fingers the blazing spark in his eyes the—

She climaxed again in a shuddering crescendo, fingers splayed wide against Adolin’s chest. But she did not forget him in that high of pleasure — her hips rolled, faster _faster_ in tiny little motions, her hand jerked and squeezed, and— he quivered beneath her, a full-bodied trembling as he gasped, arched, white spattering across her bracing wrist as he came, and she could physically _feel_ the tension drain from him like water through a sieve, body relaxing fraction by fraction as he sank into the sheets below with the kind of deep, slow groan that she imagined him shucking his armor with. 

_Perhaps I’ll see that too, someday._

Adolin sighed as passionspren sparkled in the air around them, rolling his shoulders against the sheets, and his darkened eyes blinked slowly up at Shallan in a way that somehow had her blushing deep enough to bring a burning to her cheeks, despite all they’d just done. The coiled spring of lust in her stomach tightened once again, and she wasn’t sure whether she should act on it or feel somewhat shamed at this… this _wanton desire_ that seemed nigh-unquenchable despite everything they’d already done, the _three times_ she’d climaxed already.

Adolin somehow seemed to see it, or see _something_ in her, and he reached up to cup her face. Shallan leaned into it, relishing both the caress and the curve of his hand. It was his left, what would be the safehand on a woman, and despite him being a man, she still felt a little thrill at it being used for so intimate and gentle a touch. 

“ _Shallan._ ”

“ _Adolin._ ”

They both giggled in a terribly undignified manner, Shallan listing against Adolin’s hand and trusting him to brace her weight, which he did, tilting his head against the pillow as he gazed up at her with unabashed delight, stroking her cheekbone with his thumb. Shallan nearly _purred_ at the touch as she shifted so that their legs entwined, one of his between hers so she could wrap around it and _him_ as she lowered down beside him to tuck her head against his chest and cling to him like a limpet that refused to be budged.

In her defense, it was a _very_ nice chest.

“In setting yourself a challenge, consider it fulfilled. I— you _saw_ me. My reaction. _Everything_.” She traced a curling, organic pattern against the pectoral that she wasn’t pillowed on, creating an ephemeral design that would evaporate with the twinge of sensation along his nerves. The streaks of semen that her finger dragged through remained in those looping lines. _I think I glimpsed a bowl and cloth on the bedside table..._ “I… well. I can’t say that I don’t want to go another round. Or few.” 

Chana preserve her, body and soul, but her cheeks felt like a _fire_ . Shallan nosed into Adolin’s chest as if it would hide her shameless lust, her hair thankfully falling around her to hide her face. Married or not, it was all so new. And yet, at the same time, so _good_. Heralds, this was the price of honesty, but if Adolin was inclined to oblige...

Shallan breathed. She reached up, fingertips ever-so-slightly brushing the joining dip of his collarbone. 

“Husband. My love.”

Shallan licked her lips, glancing up to find his gaze and digging for the unvoiced desires that lurked in her and him both, tugging at need, and the need to be _needed_. 

At love.

“ _Adolin._

“...Please, indulge me once more?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pattern was explicitly kicked out of the bedroom before the night began. Will he sneak into later sex scenes like a cat watching them unnervingly from the bedside? Yes. Will he embarrass Shallan? Also yes.
> 
> If there's one thing I've learned from writing Adolin, it's that he's not only a subtle(?) top but a biter. That's just how it is.


End file.
